


cyber

by sky_reid



Series: camboy!louis [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Camboy Louis, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Comeplay, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Pain Kink, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, also mentions of spanking and face fucking and anal, but like i said only fantasies, fantasies of kinkier shit, happy new year, hints of prostate massage, i hate that expression, insert the shruggie here, like bdsm and bondage and multiple partners and stranger sex and gangbangs, louis is v bendy in this, mentioned use of nipple clamps, of sorts, some of these tags obviously refer to the zouis parts, the usual, which reminds me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry is unexpectedly horny and louis is unexpectedly hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cyber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bufonophobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bufonophobe/gifts).



> my last fic this year! happy new year y'all you can thank nina for this one

Harry is not even looking for porn when the video opens. He’s sitting on a rackety chair in the hallway next to the closed door of the unit opposite his through which he can hear the repetitive bassline of techno music played too loud for four in the afternoon. He’d move, but this is the only spot in the entire building where he’s managed to find wifi and he doesn’t mean to complain, but what he did find is a single bar and so slow it barely opens anything. Still, it’s better than nothing and since his schedule was supposed to be up 15 minutes ago and the alternative to refreshing the page every time it loads is unpacking, here he stays.

 

He’s going through his bookmarks, deleting everything he needed for applications or recipes he tried and didn’t like, when he accidentally opens one of them. Naturally his laptop freezes the moment he notices the link is taking him to a porn website he hasn’t visited in weeks. He watches in horror as the page loads, glancing both ways down the hallway, absolutely expecting someone to walk in on him now even though no one’s even breathed anywhere near him in the last two hours. He breathes out in relief when he only gets the message that the video’s been deleted and he’s redirected to the homepage. He tries to close it, but his cursor stays unresponsive while dozens of thumbnails for various videos load.

 

It’s kind of embarrassing how fast his body reacts. Normally, he doesn’t have a problem keeping up with his libido; even when he was still stuck in Holmes Chapel he managed to have a pretty active sex life, helped greatly by his not seeing anything wrong with hook-ups and one-night-stands or even driving out and meeting people specifically for sex. Between the stress of A-levels and university application and the mini-roadtrip around Europe with Niall during the summer when there just never was any time or privacy however, he hasn’t been properly laid in months. In fact, he hasn’t even wanked in a while, too preoccupied with the move and the start of the school year. Still, the way his cock starts filling just looking at the grainy, frozen images of amateur porn even though he is literally sitting in the middle of a hallway anyone could walk through any minute has his cheeks colouring a bit.

 

He’s still logged into his account from the last time he was browsing for porn so the videos he’s being offered are all based on things he’s watched and liked before. There’s a bit of everything that’s to his tastes, boys and girls both, in various combinations or alone, some vanilla and some kink, and everything that fits none of those categories, but it’s one video in particular that catches his eye.

 

The thumbnail shows a boy in a snapback and nothing else, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed Indian-style and a hand wrapped around his cock. He’s cute, dark tattoos littering his skin and just the slightest round swell to his belly, defined biceps and thick thighs, a light smattering of hair on his chest and thick curls at his groin. It’s the way he’s looking at the camera though that has Harry’s cock twitching; his eyes are obscured by the snapback, but the cut of his cheekbones is sharp even in the low resolution, the scruff on his jaw looks just the perfect amount of scratchy to give beardburn without being uncomfortable and his lips are curled in a flirty smirk that makes Harry’s insides swirl around pleasantly.

 

He’s so focused on the boy’s face that he doesn’t even realise his laptop’s functioning again. He looks up from the screen and both ways down the hallway. There’s no one around and whoever is already moved into the unit he’s sitting in front of cannot possibly hear anything over that music so there’s really no harm in it if he clicks on the video. His own flat isn’t that far away, even if he ends up having to hide an erection while retreating to it, it won’t be that difficult. His flatmate is not supposed to arrive until tomorrow anyway, so if there was ever a time to watch porn outside of the privacy of his own room, it’s now.

 

Clicking on the video alone has him pressing the heel of his palm against his hard cock; his skin prickles at how deliciously dirty it feels to open porn where anyone could catch him, even though the probability for it is low. The page is slow to load and even just a few seconds of the video feel like they take forever. All Harry gets is a shaky shot of the boy settling on the bed before he pauses. He leaves the video to load and goes back to refresh the university website. His schedule is still not up even though he was supposed to have it almost an hour ago, but he can’t bring himself to care about that anymore. All he can think about is how in the tab right next to the one he’s currently on, there’s a video loading that he can’t wait to watch. Just _imagining_ what it might show is turning him on. The anticipation is making his heart beat faster; it feels like being denied with a reward dangling above his head for later, for if he’s good. He licks his lips. He likes being denied and he likes being good and he likes being rewarded and if that boy is involved, he likes it even more. It feels even more real when he realises that no matter how many times he switches back to that tab, he can’t make the video load faster and he really does have to wait.

 

He gives up on the pretence of doing anything else, staring instead at the video and watching the bar at the bottom slowly turn a light grey. He scrolls down a bit to see if there’s any additional information he can find; the description to the video is just a simple _just a bit of fun b4 class ;)_ , but the account has some information listed at least. It’s been active for a little under a year and has 24 videos uploaded. When he has access to a better internet connection, Harry plans on seeing them all. The username is a not particularly creative loadedgun28 and the profile picture shows the same boy from the video, making a face for the camera with his eyes crossed, bright blue and red-rimmed, lips stretched wide in a silly smile and come dripping down his cheeks and chin. Harry’s both endeared and turned on. The brief description the profile gives puts the boy at two years older than Harry and has him in Manchester. Harry’s heart skips a beat when he realises he might actually run into this boy in the street, might get a chance to meet him and maybe even get to know him. On second thought, that will probably be creepy if he watches this video. Still, he doesn’t close the tab.

 

He curls his fingers around his cock through his trackies and gives it a few tugs. He checks the university website one last time when he sees how close the video is to loading. There’s nothing new on it though, so he closes it. He practically counts down the seconds to the bar filling and is slamming his laptop shut as soon as the video is fully loaded. He jumps out of the chair so fast it clatters to the ground, but he doesn’t bother picking it up before he skips off to his flat, closing and locking the door behind himself. He doesn’t bother going to his room, setting the laptop on the coffee table in the common area instead. The sofa is lumpy and uncomfortable under his back and thighs, which he notes for later; for now, it doesn’t much matter where he’s sitting.

 

He leans back and puts his feet up on the edge of the coffee table around his laptop, spreading them wide so he has better access. He rests one hand on the inside of his thigh, running the other down the centre of his chest and over his belly. He pauses above the waistband of his trackies, oddly unwilling to keep going. The video is only a couple of minutes long, probably not enough for him to come just from it if he’s not already worked up; he wants that though, wants to only really be touching himself while he watches the boy on his screen do the same, wants to come when he sees the boy’s face screwed up in the same kind of pleasure, wants the video to be a reward he can treat himself with and he knows that the longer he waits, the better it’ll be when he finally gets what he wants.

 

He pinches his thigh before putting both of his hands on his chest and rubbing his thumbs over his nipples in circles until they’re hard and visible through his shirt. Just the position he’s in is turning him on, slumped over an uncomfortable sofa with his legs spread wide as if he’s just waiting for someone to come fuck him. Even through the thick trackies bunched up around his cock he can see it jump at the mere thought. He pinches his nipples and rolls them between his fingers, then twists them so harshly he can’t stop the cry of pain that follows. His hips lift off the sofa briefly, the shift making fabric move over his cock, giving it the lightest touch that only serves to drive him more insane. He digs his nails into the noticeable peaks of his nipples. He’d want that, fantasises about it often, about being placed on display somewhere, tied up for everyone to see and touch and fuck without his say-so; he knows it’s a terrible idea in reality and he’d never do it without someone he trusts supervising it, but he loves to go there in his mind, think about being so thoroughly powerless, so completely used for somebody else’s pleasure. He watches as a dark spot of wetness appears at his trackies where the head of his cock is leaking.

 

His nipples are sore by the time he lets go of them. They pulse in the rhythm of his heartbeat, every brush of the threadbare thin cotton of his tee over them so harsh it makes him hiss. He rolls his shirt up, bunching it under his arms and exposing his belly and chest. His nipples are dark and puffy, stand out from his chest as if begging for a touch. He pinches them again as hard as he can, whimpering at the sharp pain that shoots through him; it’s almost as good as putting clamps on them. He tugs on them, trying to mimic the feeling he gets when he pulls on the chain of his clamps, but it doesn't quite work. He twists instead, until his entire chest is burning with pain and finally lets go, rubbing his thumbs gently over the peaks of his nipples, making light tingles spread out over his skin.

 

He is so hard his cock is tenting out his trackies, the wet patch on them now spread out so the darkened material sticks to the head of his cock. He vaguely thinks he maybe should’ve worn pants today; he’ll have to do laundry now and he did only just put these on. It feels good though, when he presses his palm over his cock and rubs, sticky precome that’s dripped down the shaft wetting the fabric further. He curls his fingers around himself, tugs on his cock letting the fabric rub over the heated skin. The drag is just this side of too rough and he groans through his teeth; it’s a bit too hot and a bit too much, but he doesn’t stop.

 

He’s almost surprised to find the screen of his laptop shining back at him from between his legs when he looks down his body. The cute boy from the video is smiling at him, his face a blur too close to the camera. Harry’s cock twitches in his hand.

 

He pushes off the sofa and shoves his trackies down, not bothering with pushing them much further than just below his arse. His cock slaps against the swell of his belly, the wet head of it smearing precome through the sparse trail of hair there. He walks his fingers over the underside of his cock, shivering at the touch. He follows the thick vein there down to the base, presses the tips of his fingers down. He slides his hand under the waistband of his trackies, cups it around his balls and pulls them out, giving them a light squeeze and tug.

 

He uses his toe to get the video started and make it full-screen. The sound comes in before the image unfreezes, a breathy laugh that only makes Harry harder. His hand squeezes on instinct, the grip going a bit too tight around his sensitive balls; his leg kicks out, barely missing the screen. He moves his hand to his cock instead, the other trailing up his belly to continue playing with his nipples.

 

The boy moves away so he’s sitting in the centre of the bed. His body comes into focus as he arranges his limbs, crossing his legs and leaning back so his torso looks longer. He’s smirking at the camera, that same cocky smile that first attracted Harry, working his angles with ease that only comes from experience. He lifts his chin a bit so the snapback is not shielding his face and looks at the camera down his nose; his eyes are such a bright blue even the relatively low resolution of the camera picks up on the colour. He raises one eyebrow before lifting his hips off the bed a few times, hard cock bobbing with every move.

 

The surge of jealousy Harry feels when the camera zooms in and pans from the boy’s slightly flushed face down his chest to his small perky nipples to his belly to his cock where it finally stops is entirely unwarranted. And yet, it has Harry tightening his hold on his cock. He strokes up, letting the foreskin roll over the reddened head, circles his thumb over the slit that’s blurting precome. The camera they’re using is too high resolution to be just a webcam, might be a good phone, and the angle is a bit higher up, looking down at the boy on the screen; someone must be holding it instead, using it to record this teasing. It’s not exactly new, plenty of people Harry is subscribed to on this site have someone film them, so he’s not sure why it bothers him this time. He’s not even sure if he’s jealous at the person behind the camera, wishing he had the opportunity to see this kind of show live, or if he’s just plain being possessive, wishing this boy was just his.

 

He gives himself a few quick tugs, barely moving his fist halfway down his shaft before bringing it up again. He circles his thumb around the head, pushing it into the folds of foreskin gathered there, stretching until it burns. The video is still focused on the boy’s crotch; he’s thick and uncut, pink cock shiny with lube and defined balls nestled in thick curls. The muscles in his thighs twitch and his cock bobs when he rolls his hips, a drop of precome beading at the tip and sliding down his shaft. Harry’s own cock twitches; he’s been leaking nearly steadily almost from the moment he sat down, precome slicking the way of his hand and dripping over his belly. He wraps his hand around the head, where he’s hottest and most sensitive, swipes his palm over the top to get himself even messier, then starts stroking himself in the rhythm of the boy’s hips rolling on the screen.

 

He doesn’t even realise how quiet he’s being, holding his breath and biting back sounds, until the boy sits back down and moans loudly. Harry moans with him; he feels like all the air suddenly leaves him with the sound and slumps back against the sofa as his tense muscles relax. He’s starting to sweat, the ink on his tummy glistening and his chest slippery under his hand as he twists his nipples.

 

 _“Come on, Tommo,”_ a voice says off-screen, _“show us what you’re hiding there.”_

Even the reminder that the boy is not alone in the room is not enough to bring Harry down when the camera zooms out to show the boy smirking as he twists around, getting on his hands and knees with his arse to the camera. Harry nearly comes right that instant, images flooding his brain of that gorgeously curvy body in the same position _for him_ , of his hands on the boy’s slim waist, of his fingers sinking into the boy’s meaty arse, of his cock nestled between the boy’s round cheeks moments before sinking into him. He lets his hand slip off his cock on the next stroke upwards, pinches both of his nipples as hard as he can as if the pain will clear his head instead of just making it worse. He watches the screen, feels like he’s almost not even blinking, careful not to miss a single second of it when the boy slaps his own cheeks one after the other before grabbing them and parting them to show off a soft pink suction cup of a plug sticking out of his hole. Harry whimpers to himself, nails of both hands sinking into the skin of his belly as he scratches at himself, not sure if he’s trying to make himself come or stop that from happening.

 

 _“How’s it feel?”_   the voice off-screen asks.

 

The camera zooms into the boy’s face when he looks over his shoulder and laughs, then moves quickly down the sweaty curve of his back to his arse where the end of the plug twitches when the boy probably clenches around what’s inside him. Harry can feel his own body reacting to the thought, hips pushing up into the air as if expecting a warm body to fuck into and arse squeezing tight around nothing.

 

 _“’s big,”_   the boy says. _“Better than the other ones. I like it.”_

 

It’s the first time Harry’s hearing his actual speaking voice, a bit high and breathy, but with a rough edge to it, a subtle grit. It makes a pleasant jolt of arousal zing down Harry’s spine. He looks down at himself; he’s a mess, shirt wet with sweat and bunched up at his armpits, trackies pulled down just enough for his cock to be out, the waistband of them pushing at his balls and cutting into his upper thighs where he has his legs spread as far as they will go. There’s a small pool of precome gathered on his belly under the head of his cock and his nipples are dark and hard. The marks his nails made stand out starkly against his pale skin.

 

He looks at the screen and finds the boy facing the camera once again, this time on his knees. The position makes his thick thighs look even wider, the muscles in them strained. Between his spread legs Harry can just about make out the end of the plug. He grabs his cock and strokes himself, simple and inelegant up-and-down motion without any tricks; the video is only just at the halfway mark and he can already feel his balls tightening and drawing up, his cock wet and hot and pulsing in his hand. He’s breathing harshly, free hand now gripping the sofa cushion underneath him and teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he tries to keep the noise down so he can hear the video.

 

The boy on the screen tilts his hips forward so his cock stands away from his tummy; Harry knows from personal experience the actual reason behind it is that he’s clenching around the plug inside him, probably making it press against his prostate if the way his cock is leaking is any indication. He moans loudly when he gets a hand around his cock, throwing his head back so the long line of his neck is exposed, a purple bruise visible just to the left of his Adam’s apple. His hair is curling against his temples and neck, sweaty strands peeking out from the snapback that sits on his head crooked now from all the tumbling around. Harry wants to take it off him and sink his fingers into his hair, kiss his neck and mark it until the love bite he already has is invisible. Instead, he matches the rhythm of his hand to what the boy is doing on the screen; it’s fast and a bit rough, not as showy as Harry would expect for a video like this. The boy keeps his strokes contained mostly to the top of his cock, hand moving over the shaft almost as an afterthought while his wrist twists elegantly and rhythmically so his palm rubs over the head just right. It’s a bit much for Harry right now, he’s already oversensitised and close, but he sticks to it even when he’s hissing through his teeth at the feeling. He doesn’t really need to bother keeping quiet anymore; the boy on the screen is loud, long drawn-out moans tumbling from his mouth at an almost constant pace, broken by the occasional curse. His free hand seems to be moving absently over his chest, tweaking his nipples occasionally and pressing into the bruise at his neck every once in a while.

 

He looks at the camera again when his hand slows down until it’s only cupped around the head of his cock, the thumb of it poking at the slit. Harry whines as he copies the gesture, feeling almost like the boy is watching him back.

 

The boy grins, eyebrows twitching up. _“’m close,”_   he says, more to the person behind the camera than the audience Harry thinks, but he can still pretend.

 

There’s a snort off-camera, followed by the same heavily accented voice. _“Go ahead then.”_

The boy’s cheeky smile is all teeth when he winks at the camera; he looks suddenly very young and very much up to something. Harry almost has an urge to sit up and lean forward, get closer to his screen as if that will give him a better view of whatever it is the boy needs to be on his back for. He pulls on his cock instead, slow strokes with a tight fist, flick of the thumb over the head with each one, just the way he likes; his thighs are shaking and chest rising and falling with quick breaths as he fights to stave off his orgasm, curious as to how the video will end now.

 

The boy grabs with both hands onto the single piece of likely rotten wood that acts as the headboard. There are tattoos all down both of his arms, twisting with the stretch and pull of his muscles. He’s sweaty, skin shiny with it and the hair under his arms visibly wet; Harry, inexplicably, wants to snuggle close to him and nuzzle into his armpit to smell him. He blushes furiously. The boy’s muscles tense up, biceps bulging out and belly tightening as he lifts his legs and arse up off the bed and folds his entire body so his feet can fit under the headboard. The image shakes and the bed groans when the person behind the camera presumably climbs onto the bed since the next shot of the boy comes from above, showing his entire body on the screen, his round arse shiny with sweat and the plug nestled right in the centre of it, his thighs stretched, the backs and insides of them red with beardburn and dotted with a few bite marks, the slight rolls on his belly from how he’s all folded up and the head of his cock almost brushing his chest. His snapback has fallen off and lies crumpled on the pillow under his head.

 

 _“Fuck,”_   the voice off camera comments. Harry shares the sentiment. He thinks this image will forever be burned into his brain. The hand on his cock speeds up. _“Have you been working out?”_

_“I only practised that move,”_   the boy admits with a laugh. There’s a snort off-camera. Harry feels that same strange pang of jealousy in his chest at the easy banter between them; they must be close, probably friends or maybe more and Harry can see how their relationship might be appealing on screen, but he irrationally wishes he didn’t have to witness it. He shakes his head to clear it of such thoughts and focuses instead on the faltering drag of his hand over his cock. His arm is starting to burn with the strain and his thighs shake almost violently; he’s close, could probably come now with a well-placed touch or two, but he holds off, waiting even though he doesn’t know what for.

 

The boy on the screen brings both his arms down from the headboard, curls the fingers of one around his cock and starts tugging at it quickly, while the other one moves further away, fondling his balls before giving his arse a few spanks. It jiggles even in this position; Harry wants to touch it and kiss it and bite it and hit it. He mewls at the thoughts, stroking himself even faster. The head of his cock is an angry red, droplets of precome steadily pulsing out and if he doesn’t come soon he thinks he might die.

 

The boy trails his fingers down his crack, grabs at the bottom of the plug and pulls on it until the flared end pops out with an audible wet squelch. Harry barely hears both people on the video moan over the sound he makes. The plug is a lot larger than it originally seemed, the widest part of it stretching the boy obscenely as it’s pushed inside again.

 

 _“Fuck,”_ the boy whines, much quieter now that he’s switched positions. He looks close, body tense and face screwed up in pleasure; it doesn’t look like he’s playing it up for the camera, doesn’t look like he has the mental capacity to be thinking about that at all at this point. His hand moves over his cock in short strokes so quick his tattoos look blurry and he keeps tugging the plug just out and fucking it back inside faster and faster almost like he can’t control himself. Harry can feel the pleasure building in his belly, at the bottom of his spine, tingling in his fingers and toes and over his skin.

 

Just when he thinks he can’t last any longer, the boy pulls the plug all the way out of himself, his hole gaping in a perfect little circle for barely a few seconds before he sinks three fingers deep inside and leaves them there. Harry looks up from his arse just in time to see him quickly swiping his thumb over the head of his cock a few times before giving it one last long stroke. He keeps his hand curled around the head, angling his cock away from his body and—

 

“Holy fucking _shit_ ,” Harry mumbles under his breath, his entire body tensing up and freezing mid-motion when he sees the boy close his eyes and open his mouth seconds before the first rope of come lands over his lips, tongue and chin. He adjusts the angle subtly so the next pulse of come lands mostly in his mouth, only a bit of it staining his bottom lip; he moans happily like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt and Harry can kind of relate to that because it’s definitely hottest thing he’s ever seen. The muscles in the boy’s arm shift a little, the bones of his delicate hand moving as he presumably twists his fingers inside himself; his cock kicks visibly at that, two more long streams of come hitting his face, one of them striping over his cheek and the other landing on his messy tongue when he sticks it out a little. Finally, he seems to be done, his cock blurting a bit over his chest and belly when he milks it with a few tight strokes.

 

Harry doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

 

 _“Bloody hell,”_ the person off-camera voices his thoughts instead. Their hand, dark and tattooed shows up on the screen briefly when it lands on the boy’s arse, then the image goes out of focus for a while. Harry still hasn’t moved.

 

The next time the image clears it’s a close-up of the boy’s face; he looks smiley and relaxed, happy and almost high. There’s come all over his mouth and cheeks and when he parts his lips the thick white mess of it is visible on his tongue. He smacks his lips and hums when he swallows, then opens again, showing what’s left in his mouth. Harry’s brain finally kicks into gear, replaying the last minute in flashes. He feels warm all over, muscles flexing and back arching. He’s about to start wanking furiously until he comes to the images of that boy finishing in his own mouth when he catches movement on the screen again.

 

There’s a new person in the shot now, a boy with dark skin and dark hair and an undercut and lots of tattoos holding the camera away from himself so it catches both him and the boy Harry will be dreaming about probably for the rest of his life. The new guy is leaning over Harry’s boy, rubbing their noses together before kissing him on the lips. Their tongues tangle openly making the camera catch the come shared between them.

 

Harry comes. Without anything touching him other than the hand he still has loosely wrapped around the base of his cock, he gasps and arches off the sofa, cock twitching as it paints over his chest and belly. He makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, but stays otherwise silent throughout, unable to get any air in. The images from the video replay on the insides of his closed lids, the boy's flirty smile, the way he smirked from underneath that snapback, his arse jiggling when slapped and the big plug shoved inside it, his small hand around his thick cock and the way he came all over himself, how much he seemed to enjoy tasting his own come and how he shared it.

 

By the time Harry's sinking back into the lumpy sofa, the video is already over, a dark screen over it and the white replay button in the centre. Harry's cock twitches feebly at the thought of watching the video again, but he's too exhausted to even move, let alone have another go already. He looks down at himself, swipes his fingers through the mess he's made on his belly and brings them up to his lips. It wouldn't be the first time he's tasted his own come, but this time he imagines the boy from the video straddling his waist and leaning over to kiss him, imagines the come he licks off his fingers is the boy offering to share the taste of himself, his tongue pushing it into Harry's mouth. He moans weakly around his own fingers, so utterly spent his entire body is twitching and his eyes are closing on their own. Even then, he can't stop thinking about the moment the boy's eyes slipped shut, brows furrowed slightly as he angled his whole body in preparation for coming over his own face and in his own mouth.

 

(If he clicks subscribe next to loadedgun28's username the moment he wakes up from his impromptu nap, nobody has to know.)

 

(And if he knows how his new flatmate's arse turns red from spanking and how he whimpers when he's riding a cock and how he grunts when he fucks someone's face, well, maybe someone does know about that because he blushes beat-red and forgets his own name when Louis introduces himself, but that has its advantages too.)

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)


End file.
